


Tether Essence

by talesofsymphoniac



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Canon-typical language, Complicated Relationships, Just Two Wizards Using Magic To Talk Around Their Feelings, M/M, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Subtext, Yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28229802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talesofsymphoniac/pseuds/talesofsymphoniac
Summary: Caleb had not so much as met his eyes since arriving. And maybe the rest of the evening with the Mighty Nein had made him too optimistic, or maybe it was the vague ideas that had been swirling in his head since he’d first received the news that his friends were in Eiselcross, but Essek decided the moment was right to take a calculated risk.“It has been a while since we’ve had a lesson in dunamancy.”
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett & Essek Thelyss, Essek Thelyss & Caleb Widogast, Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast, Jester Lavorre & Essek Thelyss, The Mighty Nein & Essek Thelyss, background beauyasha - Relationship
Comments: 26
Kudos: 203





	Tether Essence

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting a Critical Role fic. Yep, the Essek discord finally broke me. Enjoy, you clowns.

The Mighty Nein’s presence at the Dynasty outpost was-- well, the Nein could never do things _as expected,_ but Essek had expected chaos, and the Mighty Nein had certainly accomplished that.

It had been a long two months since they’d seen each other, and Essek had braced himself to face a Mighty Nein who had given up on him, who did not trust him one inch, who would be newly suspicious of everything he did and everything he said. Receiving Jester’s message-- _we like you a whole lot_ \-- had been a tiny spark of hope against such dismal thoughts, but even so, Jester’s natural irreverence didn’t speak for the group as a whole.

So when the Nein approached, and a screaming Jester tackled him into the snow, he was as startled by the hug itself as he was the sudden chill across every part of his body. Still, he stayed there far longer than he should have; somehow, Essek thought dazedly, lying in the snow while his arms managed to return the tackle-turned-hug, this little blue tiefling managed to contain enough warmth to counter even the frozen wasteland of Eiselcross.

And if it had just been Jester who seemed so genuinely exuberant to see him, Essek would have been overwhelmingly grateful. But as Jester helped him out of the frost with her surprising strength, he saw the faces of his other friends for the first time. Mixed emotions in all of them, but when Essek yelped rather loudly after Jester offered what she insisted was a _helpful_ pat to his backside to clear the excess snow from his heavy cloak, even Beauregard’s glare softened into something fond. 

And then there was _laughter,_ at Jester’s humiliating mix of apology-- “Henry would be _very disappointed in me,_ consent is _super important, you know”--_ and reassurance-- “Anyway, don’t be embarrassed, I would say your butt is definitely _not a bad butt_ , Essek”-- and even if it was only due to the drow’s absolute mortification, or the group’s fondness for Jester, Essek was relieved to see the initial tension seemed to have subsided.

Jester seemed to notice this too, grinning triumphantly at Caduceus. Jester, Essek thought, was much cleverer than he had initially given her credit for.

And after that, things went. Well. Better than Essek had even dared hope for. There was a moderate amount of bickering, of course, over how much information to share-- but then, the Nein had kept secrets from Essek even before they had discovered his betrayal. And Caduceus argued in favor of sharing as much as possible, and Beauregard sat beside him, flipping rapidly back and forth through her notebook, her dark eyes serious, and they exchanged theories and research with scholarly fervor while the others threw in their own comments, some helpful, some silly.

And when the topic of Essek’s status was brought up-- the beacon theft, the secrets he was still keeping-- the room darkened, and frowns settled over his friends’ faces, but… 

“I think this was a good first step,” Caduceus said, turning to face each of his friends in turn. “Trust isn’t rebuilt in a day, but, well, you have to start somewhere.”

And somehow, miraculously, no one argued. Essek hadn’t been floating since they’d arrived, but he felt lighter than he had in months.

Of course, there was still one thing that was bothering him, and he was sitting cross-legged in a corner of a tent with a fluffy orange cat in his lap.

Caleb had not so much as met his eyes since arriving. He’d spoken up a few times in the tent, to add a detail Beauregard had missed in her explanations, or insert a suggestion of his own, but few of these comments had been in response to Essek. His eyes were fixed firmly on his familiar, hands flexing in Frumpkin’s fur, shoulders tense.

Essek listened as the Mighty Nein made plans to depart the next morning. Caleb was making arguments for leaving this very evening, all of which were immediately shot down by a rather incredulous Beau. And maybe the rest of the evening had made him too optimistic, or maybe it was the vague ideas that had been swirling in his head since he’d first received the news that his friends were in Eiselcross, but Essek decided the moment was right to take a calculated risk.

“It is no trouble for you all to stay the night, especially as we’ve been anticipating your arrival for some time, now.”

Fjord grimaced. “Right, we got sidetracked with the whole Lucien thing.”

Essek waved a hand to indicate all was well that ended well, which hopefully did not betray the agonizing few days when he wasn’t certain whether something had happened to them, or they had simply changed their minds about wanting to see him.

“Well, you are here now, and it would be a shame to leave and have to set up camp only a few hours from now when there is a place for you here. In any case…” He hesitated, then took a breath, steeling himself. “It has been a while since we’ve had a lesson in dunamancy,” he said, turning towards Caleb as casually as he could manage.

All eyes turned to Caleb, who was still holding Frumpkin close to his chest. 

* * *

Caleb had hesitated long enough to make Essek nervous, but in the end, he knew Caleb would never refuse the opportunity to learn new magic. He had been counting on that.

Veth had insisted they be “chaperoned”-- which Essek knew perfectly well referred to the fact that they didn’t trust him completely yet, despite any other associations he might have had with the terminology-- and so Beauregard and Yasha were sitting in on this lesson. Beau’s arms were crossed, and she watched the wizards like a hawk, while Yasha sat near the edge of the tent.

“So,” Essek began. Caleb sat at attention, expression carefully blank. Essek stood straight, his hands clasped firmly together as he delivered his planned speech. “I have been considering what spell might be suitable for this. You have made significant progress in your studies, which greatly increases the complexity of the spells I can teach you.” Pause. Caleb said nothing, hardly moved to acknowledge him. Essek swallowed, nodded, and rushed onward. “Ah… you have indicated, before, that you are less interested in the more, shall we say, combative applications of dunamancy.” Indeed, that had been one of the first surprises Caleb had presented to him. That this child of the Empire had not wanted to utilize his magic to _scatter the potentiality of his enemies,_ but instead, to manipulate the subtle strings of fate. “Is that still the case?”

A risk, to pose a question that Caleb would be expected to respond to. Essek’s heartbeat seemed to double as the human’s eyes closed. Slowly, he breathed in, then exhaled just as deeply. “I am interested in any magic you have to teach.”

Essek swallowed, somewhat disappointed by such a neutral reply, but at least the man had deigned to speak to him. He nodded, opening his mouth to continue--

“But,” Caleb said suddenly, and Essek’s mouth clamped shut. He waited, as Caleb’s hands twitched over his spellbook, and his eyes opened. For the first time since arriving at the outpost, Caleb held Essek’s gaze, and Essek, as ever, found it difficult to look away from such intense blue eyes. “It is a very simple thing,” he said, his voice soft, “to use the arcane to cause harm. The possibilities of what can be done with magic are much vaster and greater than that. Or so I would like to believe.”

Essek froze, listening raptly. It was the most the man had said to Essek since Nicodranas, and there was a _weight_ to it, that _gravity_ that Caleb’s words sometimes held. 

And that meant that this point in particular was important to Caleb, and Essek could make guesses as to why-- could make some connections between this, and the Cerberus Assembly, and the perpetual pain in Caleb’s eyes.

Essek held his gaze for a long moment, and then inclined his head, trying to indicate the understanding that Caleb deemed so important. “Then I will show you a spell that has many possible uses that a clever mage can take advantage of. The name is _Tether Essence.”_ Reluctantly, he turned back to his desk, retrieving the two spools of platinum cording he had set aside for just this eventuality. “It is a bit more costly than other spells I’ve shown you,” he said, gesturing to the cords, “but the effect is a kind of magical link between two parties of your choosing.”

Leaning forward, Caleb glanced rapidly between the materials and Essek. “What manner of magical link, exactly?”

Essek smiled, encouraged. Caleb was intrigued, just as he had hoped for. “For up to one hour, the creatures you choose will share the effects of any injuries, as well as recovery, no matter how far apart they travel. Cast it on two enemies, and an injury to one becomes an injury to both. Cast it on a pair of allies, and the effect of healing spells are doubled. It’s rather versatile, in that sense.” He picked up one spool, letting the end of the platinum cording drape over his fingers elegantly. “Of course, those you target may try to resist, although it is easier to make it work if the subjects are nearby… “

“Fascinating,” Caleb murmured.

“I can demonstrate.” He glanced aside to Beau and Yasha, silent observers until now. “Ah, we just need two people.”

Beau narrowed her eyes, and for a moment Essek thought she might be about to accuse him of something, but then she uncrossed her arms. “What the hell,” she said. “I’ll do it.” 

Essek raised an eyebrow. “Are you certain?”

Beau leaned her head from side to side and rolled her shoulders, a show of warming up. “Yeah, it sounds freaky. I’m in.”

“Very well,” Essek nodded. “I am willing to be the other target, if that is acceptable.”

Beau paused her movements. “So if I punch you, I’ll feel it, too?”

“That’s the idea.”

Beau considered this for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, okay, fair’s fair. Go for it.”

Unspooling a length of the platinum cord, Essek had to once again remind himself not to betray his own nervousness. It was difficult, when he felt Caleb’s eyes on him so keenly, aware that every subtle movement of his hands was being observed. The stakes hit him all at once, and as he began to cast the spell, his hands trembled at a pivotal moment. 

“Sorry,” Essek muttered, feeling his face heat. With a quick breath, he repeated the motion, and this time it was flawless. With a few spoken words, the cord dissolved into gray dust. He saw Beau tense up as the magic began to affect her, fighting the impulse to resist, and then a second later felt the magic lock into place, the fuzziness that came from the mind interpreting two separate streams of sensations simultaneously.

“Okay, yeah,” Beau said with a shiver. “That’s definitely freaky.”

“How does it feel?” Yasha spoke up. She had been paying almost as close attention to the casting of the spell as Caleb had.

Beau was wiggling her shoulders, testing the effects of the spell. “I can feel your mantle thing, that’s bizarre. Is it really that heavy, or are you just that weak?”

“Certainly,” Essek replied, with the ghost of a smile. Jokes. He must be doing well enough if he was making jokes.

“Well, guess we should really test this, huh?” Beau said, and before Essek could say anything, the monk had shifted into a fighting stance, her fists raised to her chin. Well, Essek thought through a sudden surge of panic, he did walk into that one, a bit. He did his best to brace himself, but nothing came. When he looked at Beau, she only raised her eyebrows. “Come on, you gotta say yes.”

“Consent is important,” Yasha piped up from the floor.

Essek hesitated, but, well, Beau was fully aware of their magical link, so she probably wouldn’t hurt him too badly. “Go ahead.”

“Be careful, Beauregard,” he heard Caleb say, and Essek had just enough time to hope that part of the concern in his voice was for him before he had the wind completely knocked out of him by a hard punch to the gut. He was, of course, wearing magical armor, suitable for mages, beneath his robes. Beauregard’s fists didn’t seem to much care about that fact.

“ _Fuck!”_ He heard Beau’s curse under the sound of his own wheezing.

In his peripheral vision, he saw Yasha standing at attention. “Beau!”

“Damn, shit, _fuck,_ ” Beau was saying, hand clutching her stomach. “Okay, like, I knew I was pretty good at that, but damn.” She drew her hand away, revealing a large red spot on her abdomen-- somehow left uncovered even in the frigid temperatures-- which would almost certainly bruise. Essek, quite literally, felt her pain.

Yasha reached out to touch the inflamed spot with a pale hand, surprisingly delicate despite its size. Both Essek and Beau let out a sigh of relief as a warm and soothing feeling engulfed the injury. Beneath Yasha’s hand, Beau’s skin was as good as new.

“Thanks, Yash.”

Essek nodded weakly, still clutching his stomach. “Indeed.”

For a moment, Yasha lingered there, and Essek swore he could feel for himself how her fingertips just barely brushed Beau’s skin. Yasha’s cheeks had turned slightly pink, and Beau seemed to notice, too, her mouth twisting into an awkward little grin.

That was new. Essek tried to focus on the discomfort of the foreign sensation and not the faint envy that it inspired. He coughed delicately, and Yasha pulled back, pinker than ever. 

“Well,” Beau said a little too loudly, rubbing at her knuckles. “I’m not gonna lie, that was pretty satisfying.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Essek said, only somewhat sarcastically.

“Kinda puts a new spin on the whole ‘eye for an eye’ thing, huh,” she mused. 

“Quite.” Essek hesitated, then. He knew what he had planned to say, had spent hours going over it in his head, but he still didn’t know if he had found the right words, if any such thing existed. “When… when a creature becomes aware that they will feel another person’s pain as if it is their own… their actions will adjust, accordingly. Perhaps subtly, perhaps not, but… that is the power of forging such a connection.” 

He had thought it might be too understated, too circumspect a way to express the confusing mess of emotion this group of mercenaries had managed to wrench from him, but he heard the words falling out of his mouth and was suddenly sure he had been wrong. No, what it was was far too _much_ , the words may as well have ripped open his chest to reveal his stupid, underused heart to everyone in the tent.

He clamped his mouth shut, his jaw tight. Yasha cocked her head, and Beau raised her eyebrows, but neither said anything. Essek couldn’t bring himself to look at Caleb.

Finally, the light Zemnian accent filled the silence. “I see,” Caleb said simply. “A very interesting choice of spell.”

 _Breathe, Thelyss._ Essek turned back to him, expression as politely neutral as he could manage. “Shall we begin, then?” 

And apparently the world hadn’t ended, because just as he had before, Caleb opened his spellbook to a blank page, shoulders straight with purpose, and they began. Tense and stilted, at first, more so than even their very first lesson together, but before long they slipped into the rhythm of spellcraft. Caleb was a remarkably fast learner, and Essek had missed the delight of watching him take apart a new spell, examine each intricate element with expert precision, and piece it back together. It was easy to lose himself in it, especially as Caleb, at last, seemed to lose the stiffness in his spine and the need to avoid Essek’s gaze like it might burn him.

At last, they were done. “Well,” Essek said, unable to keep a certain smugness from his features, “give it a try.”

Beauregard, who he suddenly remembered was still in the room, stepped forward, at the ready. Essek focused on Caleb as he began the somatic components of the spell. Perfect, each of them, and the spoken words were just right, as well-- much time had been dedicated to perfect pronunciation and diction. Essek was so fixated on Caleb’s casting, in fact, that he didn’t notice until the spell had already been cast that he was one of its targets.

There was a split second in which he could have fought it. He set aside the impulse. And then the fuzzy feeling settled in him again. Without fully realizing it, he began to raise one of his hands to his own cheek, which was suddenly slightly itchy. He caught himself a moment later, glancing up at Caleb’s newly grown beard, feeling quite flushed.

He lowered his hand quickly, instead reaching out with one hand to squeeze the fingers of his left hand together. Startled, Caleb looked down at his own left hand, flexing his fingers and reminding Essek of the motions of a magical cat’s claw from many months ago. 

He felt himself smile. “Well done.”

Silence fell, but it no longer felt like the awkward, oppressive silence from the beginning of the lesson. It was companionable, instead, and Essek savored it.

“Thank you,” Caleb said, eventually. “I will make good use of this spell.”

“I know you will,” Essek said. “It is… my pleasure, truly.”

Caleb looked up, and their eyes met, but then he glanced back at his feet, and then to his spellbook, still resting on the table. He seemed uncomfortable, suddenly, and worry crept into Essek’s mind once again.

“I am glad,” Caleb said, his voice so quiet that Essek had to take a slight step forward to hear him properly. “The situation is… complicated, I know, but, ah, I am glad that…” he trailed off, turning his body away from Essek. 

His arms crossed in front of him, fingers digging into his forearms the way they sometimes did, his fingernails scratching into his skin so sharply that Essek couldn’t restrain himself from flinching. Caleb jumped at the sound, his expression darkening instantly as he realized what had happened.

“My apologies,” he said, his voice hoarse, the sorrow that had momentarily left his gaze during their lesson flooding back. 

Essek gave a pained smile. “Not at all,” he said. There was no good way to explain that the darkness falling over Caleb’s expression was more painful than the scratching had been.

“No,” Caleb insisted. “I should have realized--” he stopped abruptly, and Essek was surprised to see his eyes light up. It was the face he had made when the last piece of the _Tether Essence_ spell had clicked into place. “That is another effect of this connection,” he said slowly, deliberately. “When…” he bit his lip, then met Essek’s eyes, determined. “When I create such a link… it is my responsibility… to ensure that I do not cause others harm, inadvertently.” 

His voice had taken on that tone, again, the one that meant he was saying something very important that Essek would likely spend the next week pouring over in his mind. “I do not mind,” he said carefully.

And Caleb’s eyes finally softened, his lips quirking into a tired smile. “I do,” he said softly.

Essek swallowed, heart beating heavily in his chest. He felt himself nod. “Then…” he licked his lips, then forged ahead. “You will just have to keep yourself out of harm’s way, yes?”

“Yes,” Caleb agreed. He seemed to have relaxed, having said what he wanted to say. “And you, as well.” 

“Of course.” 

It wasn’t, Essek thought, an apology for his earlier coldness. Essek would never ask for one, in any case. But their eyes had not drifted from each other, and Essek’s whole body was still drowning in the sensation of the spell, and he was grateful for all of it.

“Hey, Caleb,” Beau called, “not to interrupt your wizard moment or whatever, but I just thought of something else that spell might be good for. Will you cast it on me again sometime?”

Just like that, the tension broke, as Caleb turned to face his friend with a cocked eyebrow. “It is rather expensive, Beauregard,” he said smoothly, as if nothing at all had happened, as if Essek’s mind wasn’t still spinning with it. “What is it that you want to try, exactly?”

“Oh, shit, it is, huh? Well, maybe for a special occasion, then,” Beau said with a shrug.

“What are you-- oh.” Caleb sighed deeply, and Essek recovered just in time to catch Beau’s eyes darting unsubtly towards Yasha, piece together exactly what it was she was suggesting, and promptly blush deeper than he ever had in his life. He had never thought of using _Tether Essence_ for that purpose. Also, Caleb had not allowed the spell to drop, yet, a fact of which Essek was extremely aware.

To his credit, Caleb seemed unperturbed. “We will talk about this later,” he huffed.

“We should definitely talk about this later,” Yasha agreed, her voice soft but no less blunt.

Caleb shook his head, thoroughly exasperated. “I suppose that is our cue to leave, then.”

It took Essek an embarrassingly long moment to realize he was being addressed. “Ah, yes. Of course,” he stumbled, aware that it was not a particularly graceful recovery. He did his best not to interpret the sly smiles thrown around the tent as he wished his friends goodnight.

At last, they left Essek alone in his tent, feeling vaguely light-headed. Perhaps, he thought dimly, it was a result of the spell, which he couldn’t help but notice did not drop until the full remainder of the hour had passed.


End file.
